


Delusions

by azngirl123



Series: Moments [9]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: AU, Angst, Character Death, F/M, Romance, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:16:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24063454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azngirl123/pseuds/azngirl123
Summary: He gaped at her and he felt a warm blush spread across his cheeks. This really wasn't what he had in mind. Actually, he didn't even have proposing in mind. Especially not at five in the morning after he sprinted here from his apartment after a hellish nightmare that brought him to tears. And especially not when she was only wearing her pajamas and, fucking hell, he wasn't even wearing any damn pants.OR Percy's fear of infidelity and overactive mind create a nightmare for him and Annabeth.
Relationships: Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson, Rachel Elizabeth Dare/Percy Jackson
Series: Moments [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1735525
Kudos: 47





	Delusions

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger Warning: Mentions of depression and suicide.

_**Trigger Warning:**_ **Mentions of depression and suicide.**

* * *

He was standing in a restaurant foyer. Catching a glimpse of himself in a decorative mirror, he recomposed himself, adjusting his tie and running a hand through his windswept hair.

"Sir, how many?" The maitre'd asked.

"I believe she already has a table, but thank you sir."

His eyes swept around the restaurant in search of his dinner companion. When he spotted her recognizable hair, he approached the table.

"I'm so sorry, I'm late, sweetie. Stevenson couldn't shut up so the meeting ran late," he spoke as he bent down to kiss her cheek and sat into the seat across from her.

She chuckled, "It's nothing. I got caught up in one of my projects so I just got here."

He rolled his eyes, not surprised. Dinner went without a hitch. They had a fantastic meal in an intimate, romantic atmosphere with one of his favorite bottles of wine. After paying the check, he led her out of the restaurant by hand and walked her to her car. Pressing her against the driver's side door, he kissed her thoroughly.

The kiss left them breathless and he peered down at her. Illuminated by the moon, she looked absolutely radiant. He was about to press another kiss to her lips, but she pulled back out of his reach. "Percy, when are you going to tell her?"

Sighing, he dropped his head to her shoulder. "Soon, I promise. It's just not good timing yet." He knew he was making excuses, but he dreaded having to do what she asked. Yet, he knew that it was inevitable that it would happen. He was just pushing it off until he had to.

"Babe, there will never be good timing and you know it," she sighed as she played with the lapels of his suit jacket. "You're just delaying and the more time that passes, the more it'll hurt in the end."

"I know. I'll do it soon. I promise."

It looked like she was about to argue further, but she pursed her lips and didn't say anything else. She only nodded in response and they shared one more kiss before she climbed into her car.

Just as she was starting the engine, he ducked down to talk to her again. "Rachel, I love you. I promise it'll be soon."

He closed the car door and stepped back as she drove out of the restaurant lot.

* * *

He was in front of an apartment door. He took a deep breath and opened the door. Walking in, he glanced around the room and found Annabeth sitting on the couch, watching some show on the television.

"Hi honey, how was dinner with the boss?" She asked without glancing at him.

He shifted nervously by the edge of the couch and thought of all the things he could say, but blurted out, "I'm having an affair with Rachel Dare."

He closed his eyes and cringed. _Fuck_. He was an idiot. That was probably the worst way to ever tell someone that. He opened his eyes to see her looking down into her lap.

"I know," she whispered. He should have felt shocked by her admission, but strangely, he wasn't even the slightest bit surprised. She was always outrageously perceptive and observant. Despite all of his attempts to hide, she was always smarter than him.

"I want a divorce," the words slipped effortlessly out of his mouth and he wished it was harder to say.

"Okay," his eyes nearly bugged out of his head. He was expecting anger, sobs, fighting, yelling, and so much more. Not this dejected Annabeth, who said nothing but a few words.

"That's it? That's all you have to say?"

She finally met his eyes and his heart clenched at the tears streaming down her face, "there's nothing left for me to say. I'll go pack my bags."

And with that, she retreated into the bedroom. He was left gaping. There was no fight. Not even a single semblance of a fight. What the hell just happened? It couldn't have been that easy, could it?

* * *

He was on his knees looking for the pen that had accidentally rolled behind the dresser. Annabeth had moved out long ago so the dresser would have been light enough for him to simply move, but reaching behind it seemed easier to him. But, as he was searching on his knees, he started to regret his decision.

Reaching for the pen, he stopped since something bright orange caught his eyes. He grabbed the unknown object and returned to his feet. It was an empty pill bottle. He squinted his eyes to read the label.

_Annabeth Jackson_

_Fluoxetine 60 mg_

He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion and tried to recall any mentions of illness. He walked over to his laptop and did a quick search of the prescription. Clicking on the first result, he read the first line and was completely stunned.

_Fluoxetine, more commonly referred to as Prozac, is one of the most commonly used anti-depressants used in the United States._

Anti-depressant? He started to become slightly panicked as he continued reading.

_To treat major depressive disorder, 20 mg is considered to be the typical therapeutic dose. Dosages can be in 20 mg, 40 mg, and 60 mg._

He glanced back at the prescription bottle in his hand. _60 mg._ Annabeth had been taking the maximum dose. A frenzy of almost panicked energy invaded him as he read as much as he could about the medication and major depressive disorder.

After half an hour of researching, he sat back in stunned silence. From what he had read, to reach such a high dose of medication took time. It took weeks maybe months to reach that point. How had this gone completely unnoticed by him? A wave a guilt flooded him as he failed to comprehend the reality of the situation. His wife had been taking anti-depressants for God knows how long without his knowledge. She had been struggling with this awful, life-threatening disease by herself while he was off having a fucking _affair_ with another woman.

He was completely lost in thought when a ringing brought him out of his reverie. "Hello?"

"Hi, is this Percy Jackson?"

"Yes, this is him speaking," he answered, still unfocused and in a slight daze.

"Sir, we have found your wife unresponsive and need you to come here immediately."

* * *

He was cold. Looking around him, he noted his surroundings. There was a slight chemical stench in the air and a low buzzing could be heard in the background. The hallway he was in was painted in dull colors and he was seated in a hard chair.

"Mr. Jackson?"

Standing up, he spun around to look at the man, who was wearing scrubs and a white coat. "Yes, that's me."

"Hello, I'm Dr. Anderson. Thank you for taking the time to come here. Please, follow me." He followed the man and the smell of antiseptic overloaded his sense. The center table captured his attention as he walked closer to it. His stomach was sinking and he fought the urge to run and vomit up his guts. The man stopped to stand on the other side of the table and lifted the blanket for him to see.

She was impossibly pale. Her blonde hair fell around her head like a halo and her lips were blue. He wished her eyes were open so that he could see those striking grey eyes again, but it wasn't meant to be.

Sucking in a deep breath, he answered the unasked question, "yeah, that's her."

He wanted to crumble to his knees and sob, but he forced himself to remain strong for now. "What happened?" He was almost afraid to ask, but he needed to know.

"Suicide. Your wife overdosed," the words sent a chill through his veins. _Suicide._ _Wife._ If only the man knew what he had done. It might be classified as a suicide, but he thought it was more apt if the man had said homicide because he knew. He knew that he was the reason why his wife was dead. He couldn't fortify himself against the sudden attack of emotions so he dropped to his knees. Despite the fact that he knew he wasn't alone, he started to violently sob.

"I'm sorry. Annabeth, I'm so sorry. Please come back to me. I'm so sorry," he let out strangled wails as he heard the patter of footsteps disappear, indicating the doctor had left. "God, please. I'm sorry. Please. I'm sorry, Annabeth."

* * *

He jolted awake. His mind and heart were racing and even though he was only wearing boxers, his entire body was soaked in sweat. The covers and pillows of the bed were all thrown to the floor and he couldn't process any coherent thoughts. The bedside clock beside him blinked _4_ _:37AM_ in neon green as he frantically tried to calm his over sensitized body. Memories of the dream flashed through his mind and the emotions that stemmed from it flooded through him.

All of a sudden, he felt bile rising in his throat and sprinted to his bathroom. Lifting the toilet lid, he vomited into the bowl as tears streamed down his eyes. Once his retching was reduced to dry heaves, he flushed the toilet and fell back against the wall. He was shaking. His head fell in between his knees and he forced himself to take slow deep breaths.

When his tremors subsided, he lugged himself to the sink to brush his teeth to remove the awful residue left in his mouth. After washing his face, he lent against the counter, gripping the edge until his knuckles turned white. He saw how horrible he looked as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. His eyes were completely bloodshot and his hair was matted against his forehead.

_Annabeth._

Visions of a lifeless body flashed in his mind and it nearly sent him back to the toilet. Instead, he bolted out of the bathroom and grabbed the nearest shirt, his keys, and wallet. He sprinted to his car and drove as fast as he could to an apartment building ten minutes away from his. His mind wasn't processing any of his movements as he drove on autopilot. He recklessly pulled into the first spot he found and ran through the building searching for his destination. Upon arriving at the door, he banged as hard as he could with no consideration to how early it was and yelled loudly "Annabeth! Open up! Annabeth!"

Though it was barely a few minutes in reality, it felt like an hour had passed since he started knocking on the wooden door. He gave up and his frantic mind prepared to break down the door. He squared up his shoulder and was about to ram the door when it was suddenly pulled open, revealing a furious woman with tussled blonde hair wearing light blue sleep shorts and a navy tank top.

"What the fucking hell do you - Percy? What's wrong?" Her tirade was interrupted as he bowled her over with a hug. He buried his face in her curls, inhaling the familiar lemon scent. He was probably squeezing her too tightly, but she didn't complain. She slowly led them over to the couch and pulled away to sit him down on the couch. He was about to complain about the lack of contact until she sat on his lap. He automatically wrapped his arms around her waist and brought her impossibly close to him.

"Percy, babe, breathe. Tell me what's wrong." He hadn't realized that he was crying until she was wiping his tears away with the pads of her thumb.

"Dream. We were married. I cheated. Divorce. Secrets. Depression. You killed yourself," he stuttered in words, failing to form sentences, as he tried to regulate his breathing. He shuddered at the memories of his dream as he squeezed his eyes shut to force out the visions flashing through his mind.

She carded her hand through his hair, massaging his scalp. The action brought a calmness over him and he sighed against her neck. He whispered against her, "I love you. I love you so damn much. There will never be anyone else. Don't you dare ever leave me. I love you."

"Percy, look at me. I'm not sick. I'm okay and I'm not going anywhere. I promise you that I'm not going anywhere," she replied. They sat in silence, him absorbing her presence and her trying her best to wipe away his fear. The dream had felt so real, but at the same time, he couldn't imagine it ever happening. He would never cheat, especially on Annabeth, and after this, he vowed that he would never even let Annabeth ever have an inkling of insecurity that he was. If they were married, he would love her and cherish her until the day he died.

"Marry me," cut through the silence. Annabeth looked at him with wide eyes. He realized that he was the one who had said that and caught her stare with his own incredulous look.

"Did you - did you just _propose_?"

He gaped at her and he felt a warm blush spread across his cheeks. This really wasn't what he had in mind. Actually, he didn't even have _proposing_ in mind. Especially not at five in the morning after he sprinted here from his apartment after a hellish nightmare that brought him to tears. And especially not when she was only wearing her pajamas and, fucking hell, he wasn't even wearing any damn pants.

She seemed to have collected herself faster than he was able to as she said drily, "Seaweed Brain, you're not even wearing any pants."

"Um, can I try that again later?"

She threw her head back and let out a loud laugh. After her little laughing fit, she pecked him on the lips and grabbed one of the hands around her waist, "come on, let's just go to bed."

He followed her into the bedroom and wrapped his arms around her as they adjusted themselves in bed. Just as he was drifting to sleep, he whispered in her ear, "Love you, Wise Girl."

"I love you too, Seaweed Brain. I'll always be here."

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: If you or someone you care about are having suicidal thoughts, please contact the Suicide Hotline at 1(800)273-TALK.


End file.
